Amy made her mum drop us off at the end of Eric’s road. “Thanks, Mrs. Fisher,” I chirped, waiting for Kim to get out before me, watching her struggle to plant her heels on the pavement, tugging down her tiny skirt, goose bumps all over her body. Then Amy made us wait for her mum’s car to be around the corner before we were allowed to knock. The door crashed open and a red-faced Eric appeared on the threshold, wearing a gold chain prominently over his jumper.

“Hey,” he grunted, clearly unsure how to greet girls. “We’re in the conservatory.” We could only follow, goggling at the weird exhibit of “Eric’s Family Home.” We were greeted by what appeared to be a resurgence of the Year Six disco in terms of gender segregation. Eric sat himself back on the sofa, joining all the other boys, who each nursed an alcopop and were in some sort of silent competition over who could open their legs the widest. The girls congregated together, all of them pretending they weren’t highly aware of the boys watching from the corner, laughing all high-pitched and easygoing, and then checking to see if Matt had noticed them.

We opened and decanted our two bottles of wine stolen from Kim’s mum’s cupboard, sloshing it into the provided Pokémon cups. I felt the boys’ gaze on us and my skin prickled. I covered my naked stomach with my arm, suddenly way too aware of myself. This awkward feeling of being eyed up and sized up like cattle in a farmers’ market. I hugged the girls hello, including Abi from my English class, and we stepped away from the speakers to hear ourselves compare which alcohol we were drinking.

“I’m, like, soooooo drunk,” Kim announced, throwing her hair back and checking for the second time that Matt was there. “I’ve had two Bacardi Breezers already.” The boy himself was in the corner sofa, his legs widest of all. I gulped my wine, pulling a face at its vinegary taste. With nothing much else to do, I took another sip, then a gulp, and then, quite quickly, finished it and panicked about how I was going to spend the time. Thankfully, two rounds of drinks were ice-breaking enough for the two sexes to congregate, making small talk about school and which teachers we thought were a) gay, b) sexual predators, c) virgins, and d) all three.

Sean sauntered over to us in a shiny blue shirt, and attempted to chat up Jessica. “So,” he shouted, his face right near hers. “I’ve been wondering about you.”

“Me?” she asked, while I looked on.

“Yeah.”

“What have you been wondering?”

“Have you done your maths coursework yet?”

“Oh, yeah, that.” Jessica shook her head with her straw still in her mouth. “No. It’s not due for ages yet, is it? Have you?”